


Super

by novel_concept26



Category: Glee
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-18
Updated: 2012-04-18
Packaged: 2017-11-06 15:02:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,679
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/420190
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/novel_concept26/pseuds/novel_concept26
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There's something about superheroes that just gets to her, from the very start.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Super

Title: Super  
Pairing: Santana Lopez/Brittany Pierce  
Rating: PG  
Disclaimer: Nothing owned, no profit gained.  
Spoilers: None in particular.  
Summary: There's something about superheroes that just gets to her, from the very start.

  
There’s something about superheroes that gets to her, from the very start.

***

She’s upside down when Santana comes striding into the backyard, all scabbed-over shins and wispy limbs. Her knees are sticky with sweat, glued to red-painted metal. She feels certain that she could stay here forever, fastened like part of the structure. A beautiful, powerful little spider, resting in her glistening web.

Santana cocks her head the way she always does when she comes upon something she doesn’t quite understand. Her baseball cap is pulled too low over her eyes, until it looks as though she has no brows at all, the brim brushing the backs of her shoulders. Brittany smiles.

She can tell, even though her mouth is upside down and probably looks sad, Santana knows she is glad to see her.

Anyone else would ask what she is doing here—or how long she’s been hanging like this. Brittany’s lost track, truthfully, but she thinks it must have been at least an hour, or maybe six. She can feel the warmth in her cheeks, bearing more than just the summer sun. Everything tingles. She should worry about how to get down, but she doesn’t. That’s not important.

What _is_ important is the way Santana soundlessly climbs up beside her, pulling with stick-thin arms covered in all those peeling, raggedy band-aids until her body leaves the grass behind. What’s important is how, clumsy and a little shaky, Santana hooks her knees around the red-painted metal and lets her torso swing down. The hat topples off her head and lays, bright crimson, amid brilliant emerald blades. Dark hair flows loose, and when Brittany turns her head just the slightest bit, she can make out the _woosh-swish_ of her own strands of gold mixing with black. She grins a little brighter, though her legs are trembling with exhaustion.

“Been up here a while?” Santana asks, fingertips stretched above the heads of the dandelion patch beneath the monkey bars. Brittany shrugs as best she can against gravity.

“Webslinger’s gotta keep an eye out. Never know when Venom could show up.”

Santana nods. “Cool.”

Her hand swings left, matching Brittany’s palm for palm.

***

The dark was scary before. For years and years, Brittany admits with very little shame, she needed a blanket over her head and a gleaming Buzz Lightyear nightlight in the corner before she could sleep. The dark hid everything that didn’t seem real in the daylight: shadows, and sadness, and that clown poster that never seems as threatening as it does when she’s waiting for the Sandman to come.

The dark was scary, but then Santana came. Santana has this way of pushing all the scary things back into the closet and locking the door, of yanking beasties and goblins out from under Brittany’s bed and banishing them for good. Santana’s cool like that, maybe even the coolest person Brittany knows.

So when Santana comes over after school one day and, without explanation, plunks a mask down over Brittany’s head, she…

Well, she asks. But she trusts that there’s a reason, even while she’s blurting, “What’s that for?”

“You know what bad guys are scared of?” Santana asks instead of answering. She lets herself fall, careless, landing on Brittany’s stitched, patchwork beanbag chair. Her fingertips draw semi-circles into the worn fabric.

Brittany shakes her head, feeling just a little cramped beneath the hot black rubber. She can see Santana’s every move, but if she turns her head too far to the side, her eyes don’t seem to work as well. It’s a weird feeling, not being able to see right.

“Bad guys are scared of badasses,” Santana tells her, and grins because she knows Brittany hates when she swears in the house, where her mom can hear. “And you know who’s badass?”

Her hands push at the mask a little, until it climbs up over her eyes and onto her forehead. Her hair pulls tight, stinging. She stares at Santana, waiting for the answer.

“You,” Santana says cheerfully. Brittany’s eyes widen. “As long as you’re wearing that mask, you’ll scare all the bad guys away.”

“You think?” Brittany asks, already struggling to yank the black rubber into place again. The nose piece crushes uncomfortably against her nostrils.

“Cross my heart,” Santana swears, two fingers in the air. Brittany beams.

If her parents think it’s strange, the first time they find their daughter fast asleep beneath a Batman mask, drawing each breath through a wide-open mouth, they never say a word.

***

She wishes she had a ring that could do anything. There’s a lot she can do on her own, it’s true: she can convince Lord Tubbington to take a bath when no one else can get near him, and she can do a handstand longer than anybody she knows, and she can make Santana smile even on really bad days. There’s plenty she can do without a ring.

But sometimes, she thinks having a ring would be easier. Rings work when you _believe_ in them, when you use the strength of your own will to get what you want. Rings work because you _care_.

Brittany cares. Brittany believes. Brittany’s will is super strong, even if nobody knows it.

Brittany’s will is what makes Finn stop crying when he finds out about Quinn, and Puck, and the baby. Brittany’s will is what gets Quinn to talk to her after she gives Beth away, and what gets Puck to sit with her and share Skittles, even though she knows he wants to run off and punch a wall for a while. Brittany’s will is what makes Artie stop popping his jaw after those bullies slushie him from all directions, and what gets Kurt to make a joke after he’s been shoved inside a locker. It’s Brittany’s will that convinces Tina to be her lab partner, and it’s Brittany’s will that even makes Rachel shut up at Glee.

(Okay, that also might have something to do with Brittany throwing pencil erasers at Rachel’s head until she sits down, but action is totally part of willpower, too.)

Brittany’s will can do a whole lot of things, but sometimes, she runs up against a wall. Sometimes, there are things that just don’t seem to work out, no matter how patient she is, or how long she watches, or waits, or smiles.

No matter how much will she’s got, Santana never seems to start loving her. No matter how hard she tries, she can never convince Santana to stop kissing her neck long enough to look her in the eye. She can never seem to will Santana into saying the words Brittany needs to hear.

She really, really needs a power ring. If she could just get herself into the Lantern Corps, she could will Santana to do this one important thing. She just needs to be stronger.

***

Superheroes are interesting _because_ they have problems. Daredevil is blind. Spider-man is a nerd. Batman doesn’t have parents. Superman doesn’t have a planet. Iron Man drinks too much. Thor has a funny name.

Professor X doesn’t have legs _or_ hair. Brittany thinks that might be the biggest bummer of all.

Superheroes aren’t her favorite because they’re awesome, or because they can shoot lasers from their eyes, or pick up trains, or carry big, pretty shields, or talk to fish. All of that is pretty neat, and when she’s hanging out at Sam’s house with his collection, she tells him that’s her favorite part. Wolverine’s claws. Wonder Woman’s lasso. The Human Torch being all flame-y.

The thing is, though, Brittany isn’t telling the truth when she says she likes the Hulk because he’s green. (Even though green _is_ her favorite color.)

The reason she likes superheroes is because they have such amazing problems—such amazing losses—and still, they keep going. They keep fighting. They put love first.

Like when Finn kept talking to Quinn and Puck, even though they broke his heart. Or when Quinn finally let herself take care of Rachel, instead of using her as a human punching bag. Or when Sam came back to them, even though his parents are still far away. It’s like Mercedes handing a solo she really wanted over to Tina, or Kurt forgiving Karofsky for being so mean. It’s like Mr. Schue putting Glee above his Broadway dreams.

And, maybe most of all, it’s like Santana. Angry, twisty Santana, who is so grumpy, and so lonely, and never really seen for who she is. Angry, sad Santana, whose grandma says she never wants to see her again. Whose story was told to the whole world without her permission.

Angry, beautiful Santana, who loves a girl with her whole heart, a heart that is far bigger than anybody knows.

Santana is a superhero, whether she knows it or not—and Brittany thinks she doesn’t, not quite yet. It always takes superheroes a little time to figure everything out.

Santana is sad, and has eyes that go far away sometimes when she’s thinking too hard, and hands that wind tight in her shirt, or Brittany’s hair, when she needs something to hang onto. Santana is angry, and hurting, and so very scared.

But Santana still hangs upside down with her, even when everyone else looks at them like they’re crazy. Santana brings her masks to hide behind when the world gets too cruel to take. Santana was strong enough, in the end, to love her, even without the help of a power ring.

Brittany has always loved superheroes, not because of their powers, but because of what they could really _do_. And Santana is one of the best superheroes of all.

Brittany thinks that’s the reason she loves heroes so much. How could she not? She’s had one for a best friend all her life.

And someday, together, she and Santana are going to save the world.


End file.
